Doing Time
by DarkAngelLillith
Summary: What did they do to get thrown in the brig? Chapter 3: From the medbay to the brig. It's the medic's turn to get acquainted with the brig.
1. Prowl

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N: **Took the idea from tfbunny farm over in lj. Ooc characters have no excuse to be like that except that I suck. Tell me of any mistakes you find and I'll fix them as soon as possible.

"talking"

:comm:

* * *

_**Doing Time**_

Jazz stared at Prowl, who was calmly reading a data pad. Nothing out of the ordinary since Jazz knew his friend loved to read human literature on his spare time. What was unusual was that Prowl was in the brig. Prowl, the Autobot's calm and logical second in command and tactician was reading a novel while staying in the brig.

"Jazz, stop staring," Prowl said calmly without even glancing at the saboteur.

"How can I _not_ stare, Prowl?" Jazz replied while wondering how can the Datsun look so relaxed while in the brig. Because Prowl was in the brig and Jazz really had to get his processor to stop repeating that.

"It's not everyday that I get to see you in the brig?"

There was a sound akin to a snort coming from Prowl, "This is the first time I _have_ been sent here, Jazz."

"I know!" cried the Porsche dramatically, "I mean, what did you do? Red's not panicking so I know ya didn't betray us."

"Ask Prime. He sent me here," Prowl answered trying to concentrate on his reading.

Jazz sat down and cycled air theatrically, "I would've done that, but Prime's not in the mood."

Prowl made the mistake to turn his optics away from the data pad to look at the other black and white mech. He found himself on the receiving end of one of the saboteur's infamous _'kicked puppy' _look. In combination with a pout.

He filed the pout under his _'things to be avoided at all costs' _list. A second later he made a note to ask Ratchet how was it even possible for a visored mech to have a _'kicked puppy' _look. He set the data pad down and cycled air through his vents.

"It started right after you left to Europe for that concert with Blaster and Bumblebee."

* * *

_(Three Days Ago)_

Prowl was having a bad day. Well it was more like a bad couple of days. The Decepticons were keeping quiet and the troops were getting restless. The twins normal mischievousness was no more. Normal pranks, that were easily forgotten after proper punishment, he could deal with. An increasing out of control prank war he could not. Not with what looked like the entire Ark joining them in a free for all.

To make matters worse, the usual disciplinary methods only seemed to be fueling the participants. Prowl was frankly getting out of ideas. He had other duties to attend to and he was stuck as a babysitter to a bunch of sparklings.

He tried listening to Prime, who was briefing him on the latest intel gathered by Bumblebee before the VW left the Ark, but he couldn't concentrate. He was tired, courtesy of being unable to get some energon before meeting with Prime.

He had stopped to get a cube, but the rec room had been filled with rubber ducks and Hound was complaining that the energon dispenser was serving green cubes. After spending the last three days onlining in the medbay, he had decided to wait until after the meeting to get an explanation.

There was a loud explosion followed by stomping and running and ending in screams. Both Optimus and Prowl ran out ready to fight in case of a Decepticon attack. Red Alert and Ratchet joining them only to stop and stare at the sight that greeted them.

Someone had planted a paint bomb in the Dinobot's room. That was what they heard exploding. The walls, ceiling and floor were all covered in various pastel colors. Pink being the most prominent. The running and screaming came from the mechs trying to escape Wheeljack's creations.

By the time they had managed to stop the rampaging pastel-colored mechs Prowl was almost falling in auto-recharge. Red Alert left after reassuring him that he will have the name or names of the culprits by morning. Ratchet left to fix the mechs damaged by their own stupidity; and promised to have a list of the mechs' injuries also by morning. Prime had told him they would finish that meeting tomorrow.

That left Prowl with the joyful task of assuring Grimlock that the room will be fixed and the pranksters punished accordingly. To his dismay, Grimlock was still mad.

"Them Autobots think painting us Dinobots funny. Me Grimlock show them Autobots what is funny."

Prowl decided right there and then that since the stupidity had just gotten out of control, he was going to intervene and put a stop to it.

* * *

_(Two Days Ago)_

He onlined earlier than usual. Now that he wasn't low on energy he could concentrate on the task at hand. He put his battle computer to good use, coming with different strategies that could help him in his mission to stop the prank war. After discarding the ones that had small percentages of success, he found himself with a handful left. There was one that had above ninety percent of success but he would need to recruit some mechs to the cause.

Red Alert entered Prowl's office looking weary.

"Take a seat Red."

The Lamborghini shook his head, "I'm here to tell you who was the _genius_ who pranked the Dinobots. Nothing more. I can't leave the monitors or who knows what will happen."

Prowl took on the appearance of the security director. His paintjob was dull, his movements were slower than usual and he didn't say anything about a conspiracy to destroy the Ark, "Did you recharge at all?"

Red Alert snorted, "Can't. I left the monitors for one breem to look for energon and look at what happened."

"Dispensers are still serving green energon," Prowl commented idly. Wheeljack had said he was going to look at them later.

"Except in the medbay. Ratchet's personal dispenser wasn't touched. I'm guessing Prime's still function properly too," answered the red mech, glancing at the door and fidgeting, "I really need to go now. It was the Aerialbots sans Silverbolt."

"Thanks. I'll see that they get what they deserve," Prowl replied only to blink as Red Alert scoffed.

"This is the third time this week that we've caught the Aerialbots doing pranks; and it's Thursday by human standards. You keep sending them to the brig or to help the maintenance crew and they haven't stopped. And they are the least enthusiastic about this new hobby," Red Alert said. The exhaustion in his voice made Prowl wince as the Lamborghini continued, "And the slaggers keep breaking the cameras so they can plan. They think I don't know, but I do."

"What if I had a way to put an end to this madness?" Prowl's soft voice interrupted the tirade. The red mech blinked and stared for an astrominute before a smirk slowly formed on his face.

Red Alert fidgeted again and glanced at the door, "Need to go to the monitors," he mumbled and Prowl frowned. He needed to convince Red Alert.

"Come," the red mech said as he made his way out of the office, "we'll have more privacy in the security room."

…Or maybe he didn't… Prowl stood and joined the Lamborghini, "I have to stop by the medbay and get Ratchet's report."

"Alright. But afterwards, we go straight to the security room."

Convincing Ratchet was even easier. And surprisingly, it was Red Alert who made the suggestion this time. The medic was sick and tired of having to fix mechs. Sometimes more than once a day. Prowl knew that spare parts were hard to find, making the medic even more frustrated.

* * *

_ (Present Day)_

"Wait a minute, if Red Alert and Ratchet helped ya, why aren't they down here facing time with ya."

Prowl threw an annoyed look at the saboteur at his interruption, and was rewarded with one of Jazz's trademark grins, "Simple. I omitted their willingness to participate. Ratchet and Red Alert's tasks are more valuable than mine at the moment. As long as there is no new information about Decepticon activity the majority of my tasks revolve around data pads. I can do the paperwork here, but Ratchet cannot perform surgery and Red Alert cannot monitor the cameras while on the brig."

Jazz chuckled, "You're an idiot, you know."

Prowl shrugged and made to grab the data pad he'd been reading.

"Hey! You gonna stop there? I thought you were gonna tell me how ya ended up in there," Jazz cried out and Prowl hid a victory smirk. For someone who prided himself in being unpredictable, Jazz was sometimes too predictable for the Datsun.

"I was. You interrupted me."

"Look, buddy, I won't interrupt again. Promise!"

Prowl put the data pad down again, "Where was I? Ah, yes… Red Alert and Ratchet agreeing to help me."

* * *

_(Two Days Ago)_

Prowl and his two partners in crime spent the rest of the day planning. Ratchet made a point to say that there were some parts he didn't like. Mostly, because someone could get slightly hurt and he'd be the one stuck doing what he was tired of doing. Fixing the stupid after doing something stupid. He was still willing to go along with the plan after Prowl assured him that, if the plan was successful, he wouldn't be bothered for quite a while.

In between planning, they were forced to live another day in the prank war zone. True to Grimlock's word, the Dinobots had joined the fray and had strung the minibots on the ceiling like piñatas. Ratchet had been very lucky that they had held that meeting in the security room and were able to stop the Dinobots from actually trying to use the hanging bots as real piñatas.

Then, there was the lime green Ironhide with squeaky toys stuck in his joints. Mirage's quarters were flooded. Hound showed an amazing talent in superimposing a hologram over the television while Tracks was watching his soap opera. The hologram used the human voices coming from the television and was amazingly more interesting than the real thing. Even the three officers had to admit that seeing Cliffjumper declaring his love to Sunstreaker, where the golden twin was in place of the leading female, was somewhat amusing. Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper had both vowed their eternal hate for the Jeep.

Mirage was using his invisibility to write on other mechs backs. By the end of the day most of the Ark residents had something written. Grimlock's _'I'm a pink fairy princess' _and Prime's _'Aft belongs to Megatron, please return if found.' _where among the most memorable ones.

The three officers trudged through the day. Avoiding Prime who was looking quite murderous after learning what someone had dared to write on his back. The three of them only looking forward to tomorrow. If this didn't stop them nothing would.

* * *

_(One Day Ago)_

**6:00 AM**

It was time for shift change. Red Alert, as always, had been twenty minutes early for his shift. And as soon as the human clock they had installed in the base struck the hour, Red Alert pressed the button that locked all the doors on the base. He'd changed the override password and only he, Ratchet and Prowl were authorized to stop the lockdown.

He glanced at the monitors, making a headcount to see if everyone was accounted for. The two mechs that arrived from patrol were trapped in the wash racks and the two that were supposed to leave for patrol were stuck…

Red Alert searched for them on the monitors until he found them in the rec room. They had stopped for a cube . Good.

Satisfied and at the same time fighting his glitch, that was screaming at him that this was compromising the security of the base and the Decepticons will surely use this to their advantage, he used a private line to comm the other two officers.

:Phase one completed:

**8:00 AM **

They've been trapped in their rooms for two hours. Red Alert had been updating him on the crew's antics. After two hours, the crew had finally found out that the vents were very secure and had motion detector sensors that triggered plasma guns and that the hull of the Ark was very strong and not easy to break.

:Ready?:

:Yes.:

The medic made a sound similar to a human clearing his throat and used the Ark's speakers.

"This is Chief Medical Officer Ratchet. I hereby declare this base under quarantine. I repeat. The Ark is now under quarantine."

:Ratchet, what is the meaning of this?" Prime's surprised voice came over a private line.

:What does it look like? I'm issuing a quarantine.:

:Why?:

:You'd have to talk to Prowl, Prime,: Ratchet answered with a frown and terminated the connection. He understood why Prowl asked to be the only one to get the blame, but he didn't have to like it. Instead, he went back to the task at hand.

"Usually, I'd head down and check on each and every one of you before doing this, but since all of you slaggers have been using the few spare parts available, you'll be stuck there until the next supplies arrive."

:Phase two completed:

**10:00**

Prowl had joined Red Alert after Ratchet's public announcement. He had to admit that the crew was resourceful, but so far there had been no incidents and none of them had been able to escape.

"Will this really work?" Red Alert asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"Any other form of revenge would have given the impression that we sank down to their level," Prowl replied as he watched Sideswipe looking at his pile drivers and at the door.

"And Prime?"

"He would have tried to put a stop to this."

Red Alert looked uncertain and Prowl wondered how hard it was for the red mech to continue doing this. The Datsun checked his chronometer and sent a public message through the comm lines.

:This is Prowl speaking. At exactly 1800 hours I will conduct a thorough inspection of the Ark. By that time, each and every room must be clean and clear of any pranking material. Since the previous disciplinary methods have proven ineffective, drastic measures have been taken. Any material found during inspection will be destroyed along with the mech that did not follow my orders. You want to behave like uncivilized Decepticons, you get to be punished like Decepticons."

Prowl watched in fascination as the mechs looked incredulously at each other, and in some cases at the camera. Red Alert held his head in his hands.

"Go to Racthet."

"What? No! I'm fine," the security mech replied, "I'm just wondering if they'd believe you."

A quick glance at the monitor showed that they were giving him the benefit of the doubt. All of them were doing as ordered, albeit much to slower than desired. Prowl looked up as Ratchet entered the security room.

"Nice words," the sarcastic comment was completely ignored by the Datsun. Ratchet grinned amused as he watched the others work through the monitors, "I'll show ya how it's done."

:Mechs, this is Ratchet. Since all of you've been acting like Slaargs and nano-gnats lately, let it be known that Prowl _will _start his inspection on time. Anyone that doesn't pass will be used for parts. He gave me his word on it. I swear on Primus himself.:

Prowl watched as bots on the screens started working faster. Ratchet looked at him smugly, "_That_ is how you do it."

* * *

_(Present Day)_

"So you basically got control of the base?"

Prowl nodded and Jazz looked puzzled.

"Did they do what you said?"

Prowl smirked, "It was the cleanest the Ark's ever been since it was built. And there has been no other incidents since then."

Jazz snickered, "Man, Prime needs better humor."

"He has it. He just does not want to admit it," Prowl replied, grabbing his data pad one more time.

"More like he was reminded how much power you three have over the Ark," The saboteur commented.

Prowl contented himself with staring at Jazz. Really, couldn't the other see how stupid that comment was?

* * *

The bunny was: "What did _Prowl_ do to get thrown in the brig?"

So, tell me what you think.

_Edited 2/15/09_ - fix spelling mistakes and grammar.

From Teletraan I:

_nano-gnat:_ a very small cybertronian lifeform. Though nano-gnats appear to be considered a nuisance, they are easily destroyed.

_Slaargs:_ are known to fight (or "scrap") amongst themselves. Being compared to them is insulting and might cause you to stop beating your comrades' heads and to contemplate your self-destructive behavior. It is unclear if Slaargs are native to Cybertron or not. They may be one of the life forms native to Chaar, which shares their whimsical-sci-fi double-a spelling.


	2. Optimus Prime

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**A/N: **It's late and I couldn't sleep, so I wrote this little thing to make up for the sadness of my last story. It's two bunnies from tfbunny farm fused into one fic. Enjoy. This one was written while half asleep, so any mistakes that you find, please tell me so I can fix them when I'm awake.

* * *

_**Doing Time: Prime Edition**_

It was a rather nice day when Jazz came down to the brig. Prowl had commed him to tell him he was to post guard down there and he was already expecting a nice prank story from the twins.

But instead of the familiar red and yellow duo, Jazz had to reboot his optics to make sure they weren't malfunctioning. A sense of déjà vu caught the saboteur as he looked at the imposing mech calmly reading a data pad.

"Prime?"

"Yes, Jazz," Optimus said without looking up from his reading.

"What are ya doin' in there, Sir?" Jazz wanted to ask if it was some sort of joke. Probably Hound with a hologram, but Prowl didn't have a sense of humor. At least in things that were related to his work.

"I believe Red Alert and Prowl sent me to the brig," was the only response he got and Jazz was sure he was staring stupidly at his leader.

"But why?"

"Because," Optimus began. Turning his optics to look at the saboteur from behind the bars and speaking in his most regal voice, "I regret nothing."

Jazz wanted to scream in frustration. The Porsche could see the hint of mischief behind his leader's optics,"Come on, Sir. I've gotta stay here and watch ya for an entire shift. Let's not make it a borin' one, please."

Optimus regarded the saboteur silently. Even behind a cell, Optimus was very much a commander, "What I am about to tell you is strictly classified. This information shall never be discussed again and disciplinary measures will be taken if this information is leaked."

Jazz blinked, a grin adorning his face, "Sure. I'll keep it a secret, Sir."

Optimus chuckled, carefully placing the data pad down beside him, "Well it started when Ratchet dragged me out of the office."

* * *

_10:00 PM the previous day_

_Location: Ark's Rec Room  
_

* * *

Optimus Prime seldom had time to unwind. And when he did it usually involved a nice cube of high grade and some literature. He had four million years of history to catch up on, after all. Strangely, tonight he didn't feel like doing that.

He watched as his troops left to recharge. He was the last mech in the rec room and was about to head to his quarters when Wheeljack and Perceptor came in.

"Hey, Prime!" Wheeljack said cheerfully, taking a seat beside him.

"Good evening, Sir. Can I make a conjecture and say Ratchet has cast you out of your office," Perceptor said as he sat on his other side, leaving him virtually sandwiched between his science team.

"He didn't just throw me out," Optimus grumbled, "He wouldn't let me finish my work in my quarters."

Wheeljack and Perceptor shared a look. Optimus should've known that was not a good sign, but he was too busy pondering how exactly his own medic had the power to order him around.

Suddenly there was a cube in front of him. Wheeljack's cheerful voice was telling him to drink up with them and Perceptor announced it was their own special brew.

* * *

_Back at the brig_

* * *

"Wait, the scientists have a special brew?"

Optimus laughed at Jazz's expression and nodded, "That thing they call a brew can down a combiner if they're not careful."

"You don't say…" Jazz had a calculating look on his face.

"One complaint from them that their stuff is gone and I'll tell them you've volunteered as a their guinea pig."

"So, you were saying…"

* * *

_12:00 M_

_Location: Ark's Rec Room_

* * *

The three mechs were drunk. Their special high grade brew was meant to be stronger than anything the twins could've concocted, but without the awful taste.

"You know, if I want to work until I pass out, that's my problem," Optimus was saying with approving nods from the Lancia and the microscope.

"Yeah! So, what if I blow myself up every other week! It's my problem," Wheeljack continued.

Perceptor looked thoughtful before adding, "It's my problem if I want to experiment for four shifts straight, right?"

He looked at the other two for approval and Wheeljack and Optimus snickered.

"You don't know what you're missing, Optimus. Science is great!" Wheeljack declared loudly while taking another high grade cube out.

"Yeah! You're missin on a lot," Perceptor piped up as he took a sip from his own cube and giggled, "We can show you how much fun it is."

Optimus drank his cube and grinned. His facemask was somewhere in the room, so the two science mechs were treated to the rare view of the Autobot leader's drunken grin.

"Sure! I'll show you how to lead an Army later too if you want," Optimus made a face and mock whispered, "It's not as much fun as everyone thinks."

The other two laughed and Perceptor started unsubspacing balloon packages. He grinned at Wheeljack and Optimus, "This one is called the fireproof balloon experiment. I was going to show it to the Dinobots, but I guess they'll see it later."

Optimus watched the experiment, recording everything and helping whenever Perceptor and Wheeljack told him to. Being as drunk as they were, it was a miracle they managed to pull off the experiment successfully. Wheeljack and Perceptor left afterwards, holding each other up and singing a silly song about science. Leaving Prime in the rec room staring at the balloons that Perceptor left behind with a grin.

* * *

_2:00 AM_

_Still in the rec room_

* * *

Red Alert and Prowl enter the rec room for their break and stared at the scene. There were thousands of balloons all over the room and in the middle of it all was Prime heavily in recharge.

Both mechs had roused their commanding officer, surprised at how over energized he seemed to be.

"Prime, what happened here?" Prowl asked while handing him his facemask.

Optimus suppressed a drunken giggle, "I found the balloons and did science."

Red Alert blinked before slowly addressing his Prime, "Well, are you going to tell us why you did it?"

Both mechs were surprised when Optimus Prime stood up, proud and tall before them. His commanding voice taking all of their attention. Both of their optic's widening as he spoke.

"No. But I can tell you it was worth it."

Posturing like he was he might not look over energized, but he clearly was. Red Alert stared at the balloons, many of whom had already exploded when they stepped on them to make their way towards Prime. That's when they had realized the balloons had small amounts of water in them. It would take so much time to clean this up and tomorrow there was some human ambassador coming to the Ark.

Optimus looked at his two officers and couldn't help but laugh. It was then that both Prowl and Red Alert looked at each other and nodded.

"Optimus Prime, you have broken the rules and should then pay for that. Prowl will escort you to the brig where you will be released after the day is over. Your second in command will take over your duties until then."

Had Optimus not been overnergized, he would've found some way out of it. Instead, he mock saluted them as he'd seen human soldiers salute and followed Prowl singing some lewd song about Megatron's aft and Starscream's turbines.

* * *

_Back at the brig_

* * *

Jazz laughed so hard he fell down from his seat. Inside his cell, Optimus chuckled in amusement and grabbed the pad again.

"I trust you won't tell Prowl and Red Alert I used thousands of balloons doing some experiment that was meant for the Dinobots."

Jazz was reduced to a fit of giggled again, 'Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, Sir."

When Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were sent to relieve him, he just stared at their gaping faces and laughed all the way to the rec room. Leaving Optimus to look through the bars as both twins looked close to crashing their CPUs.

"Prime?"

"Yes, Sideswipe."

"Do we wanna know what you're doing in there."

"I don't think you do."

"Ok. Just checking."

* * *

Bunnies used were:

1. Why is Optimus Prime in the brig.

2. About a thousand balloons are released inside the Ark and, for once, the Twins are not at fault.

_Edited: 2/15/09 - Fixed mistakes and typos_


	3. Ratchet

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**A/N: **At the rate I'm going, I'll end up putting everyone in the brig. Anyway, tell me what you think. Any mistakes you tell me about will be fixed as soon as possible.

* * *

_**Doing Time: ER Edition**_

Jazz had the sinking suspicion that Primus was setting this up. Once again he was sent to post guard at the brig. This time though, he was sure he was about to experience what Prowl goes through whenever his logic circuits lock up. Because behind the bars, reading from yet another data pad, was a very familiar ambulance…

And he wasn't referring about First Aid.

"Stop gawking. It can't be that shocking," Ratchet said, optics moving away from the data pad to look at him.

Jazz felt the familiar scans going over his body and he couldn't help but throw an amused smile at Ratchet. Apparently you can take the mech out of the medbay, but you can't take the medic out of the mech.

"Have ya ever even set foot down here before today?" Jazz asked amused, completely ignoring the medic's frown as he, for once, sat on the chair and not the desk.

"Stop being a glitch-head, Jazz," Ratchet said dismissively before turning back to his data pad. Jazz grinned wider, figuring that was Ratchet's way of saying he was fine and was not in any danger of crashing due to shock.

"You wound me, doc. I was only pointin' out that I've never heard of ya being here before."

Ratchet cycled air and put down the data pad forcefully. Jazz was just grinning and the medic had to admit that grin was one of the most annoying things he'd ever had the grace of seeing.

"Do you mind? I still have two and a half million human years worth of medical information to catch up on."

"Oh, ya gotta be kiddin' me, doc!" Jazz exclaimed, "Don't tell me ya came down here to read in peace."

The ambulance rewarded him with the simple rise of an optic ridge, "You're lucky I can't mute that vocalizer of yours. Now, don't act stupid and let me read."

"Ya know,doc... Why don't ya tell me how ya got in there," Jazz suggested, pretending to be oblivious of the withering look the medic sent him, "That way we're both gonna be entertained."

Ratchet cycled air again in resignation.

"You are not going to leave me be until I tell you, right?" Ratched asked and Jazz just shook his head with glee written all over his face.

"Very well, it started with Huffer yesterday morning."

* * *

_Day before: Early morning_

* * *

Ratchet had barely finished his morning energon when Huffer entered the medbay. The minibot had a dent on his helmet.

"Do I want to know how you got that?" the medic began as he ushered the mech towards the nearest medical berth.

"The twins were throwing rocks again," Huffer began, sounding miffed and Ratchet stifled a growl as he began fixing the bot.

There was barely a breem of complete silence before Huffer started talking, "And I think I got sand in my servos again. Probably got some in my fuel pump too. Sand gets everywhere."

That had been ended up being one of the longest three hours of his life, Ratchet was sure of it. Unfortunately, his day just got worse. Huffer had just walked out of the medbay when Cliffjumper and Sunstreaker walked in with Prowl after them.

"Ratchet, I need you to fix them both and send them to me as soon as you're done," the tactician said as he gave the two mechs a pointed look and added, "First Aid will not come today. The Protectobots encountered a delay and their team leader just commed me to tell you that he will be returning to the Ark tomorrow."

Ratchet frowned. While he knew he could take care of the medbay by himself, having done so for quite a while, he was the first to admit that the help was quite welcomed. Specially when he had cases like Sunflower and Cliffhumper (and Primus he needed to start practicing better insults) at the same time. Prowl performed a rather graceful retreat after that, leaving him in charge of the two big sparklings, who were busy throwing insults at each other.

"Okay, here's the deal, I do not want to know what happened and I do not want to hear your voices," Ratchet began, earning the attention of the two glaring mechs and not afraid of glaring back at them.

He scanned them both in order to assess the damage in order to determine who needed to get treated first. Unsurprisingly, Cliffjumper had a nice dent on his side that was very similar to the one he just fixed on Huffer. Sunstreaker on the other hand was fine. Ratchet felt like smacking the twin until there was something broken for him to fix. He made his way to Cliffjumper, throwing the twin a glance.

"Okay, Sunstreaker, I want you out of my medbay and in Prowl's office in one third of a breem. Now scram!"

"Are you insane?" Sunstreaker asked, looking very much like he was going to attack the medic for even suggesting that. Frankly, Ratchet was not impressed.

"Can't you see the scratch that slagging piece of scrap gave me!" Sunstreaker finished dramatically, as if he was in actual pain. Ratchet's optics flickered and he scanned the twin again.

"You…" Ratchet began, temper rising as he scanned again, "It's an inch long scratch!"

"See! I can't go walking around like this!" Sunstreaker declared and made himself comfortable on the medical berth.

Ratchet considered his options as he began working with Cliffjumper. He could throw the twin out now and hear him whine while fixing mechs that the insufferable twin injured himself or he could fix that slagging scratch.

"How come Cliffjumper gets fixed first?" Sunstreaker demanded while the minibot in question smirked at the Lamborghini.

Ratchet had to give the red mech some credit. At least he knew to stay silent while being repaired. Not that he didn't try to annoy Sunstreaker, but at least he was subtle about it...

And isn't that a strange word to use with Cliffjumper in mind?

Ratchet couldn't believe that it had taken him longer to fix that thrice damned scratch than Cliffjumper and Huffer combined. And all because the paint was not to Sunstreaker's satisfaction. Ratchet contented himself with imagining a giant golden toaster in place of the Lamborghini. Unfortunately, by the time Sunstreaker was gone there were at least five other mechs waiting for repairs.

* * *

_Back at the brig_

* * *

"So ya had a bad day, doc? Everyone has one," Jazz replied lazily, "Besides, with this crew I thought ya were used t' somethin' like that happenin' at least once a week," the Porsche finished speaking by giving the medic a cheeky grin.

"A bad day?" Ratchet drawled, "You have no idea what a bad day for me is like."

"Give us som' credit, Ratch. It's not like we get hurt on purpose."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Ratchet said seriously, "After Sunshine finally left, I treated Ironhide, Tracks, Mirage, Powerglide, Grimlock, Wheeljack, Prowl, Red Alert, Windcharger, all of the Aerialbots and Slag. And that was _before_ the end of the solar cycle."

"That still doesn't explain how ya get in there," Jazz said.

"Well, I was fragged. Did you know all of them got injured by their own stupidity. And to top it all off, both of the twins came back later," Ratchet groused as he continued telling Jazz the events of the day.

* * *

_Late at night or extremely early in the morning_

* * *

It had taken Ratchet three hours with each twin to get them to leave. He was tired and hungry. He had forgotten to drink anything during the day and no one had reminded him. He chanced a look at his chronometer and cycling air tiredly. There was no one to take over the medbay for him. He would have to stay on shift until there was someone that could take over for him. Unless…

Ratchet would later blame it on the low levels of energy, saying that it had affected his processor's speed. That still didn't change the fact that he still did it. He didn't even have to think about it. In less than a klik he had opened a comm line for everyone on base.

:Okay everyone, this is Ratchet. I've spent the entire slagging day repairing the lot of you. I have to say you do a better job at dismantling each other than the Decepticons. Having said that, I am quite happy to tell you that the next idiot that enters my medbay will have their aft welded to the wall for an entire orn. Ratchet out.:

The ambulance switched off his comm line and had just finished placing the last of his tools in place when the doors of the medbay opened. Ratchet's optics brightened as he grabbed his favorite welder and gave his best glare at the mech entering the room.

"Ratchet, I think I accidentally may have damaged…" the imposing red and blue mech trailed off as he took in the form of the medic with a welder in his hands, "Ratchet?"

The medic smirked, "Sorry, Optimus, but I'm a mech of my word."

* * *

_Back at the brig_

* * *

Jazz stared at the medic, laughter threatening to come out, "You…you…"

"I welded Optimus Prime's aft to the wall for an entire orn," Ratchet said, a hint of a smile on his mouth plate, "That way everyone will know I actually follow through on my threats."

Jazz couldn't hold in his laughter anymore.

* * *

_Edited: 2/15/09_ - fixed errors


End file.
